


you can't hurt your friends

by SnorkleShit



Series: librarians ficlets and drabbles [3]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Dark, Ezekiel remembers, Gen, Murder, Point Of Salvation, THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IS TEMPORARY BECAUSE OF THE TIME LOOP, THIS WENT TOO FAR, Temporary Death, Tumblr Prompt, Video Game Loop, Violence, i warned you, prompt, very dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6487531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnorkleShit/pseuds/SnorkleShit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an anon on tumblr asked for jake and ezekiel bromance + "take it easy, you've got broken ribs" and "i'm your friend, of course I fucking care" BUT THEN SOMEHOW. IT REALLY REALLY GOT AWAY FROM ME. IT'S LONGER AND DARKER THAN I EVER EXPECTED.</p><p>Ezekiel had more than a few breakdowns in the loop, and some were uglier than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can't hurt your friends

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY????

Ezekiel had to carry the large golden artifact he’d forgotten the name of, so he could only watch helplessly as Jake struggled up the stairs. The other man grunted and gritted his teeth as he pulled himself up the steps, and Ezekiel followed him quietly. Jake was covered in bruises, clutching his side. They’d escaped from the cult of bad-whoevers, but not before some particularly cruel henchmen had given Jake a spectacular beating.

The worst part was, the beating had been meant for Ezekiel. He’d baited them, pushed their buttons. But when the push came to greet the shove, Jake had thrown himself out as bait. And then Ezekiel had been helpless to watch them hurt Jake. Taking all the anger Ezekiel had risen out of them out on the art historian. And Jake had just gotten back up and headbutted the guy in the nose. A very Eve-like move, Ezekiel noted. But the grit behind his actions, that was all Jake. Jake always got back up. Jake always bore the weight of everything.

It was Ezekiel who had gotten the rise out of the men. He’d done it on purpose. Jake kept yelling at him, hissing at him, practically begging him to just shut his damned mouth for once. But no, Ezekiel Jones had to be who he was. And Jake had to be who he was. Ezekiel should have known better. He was supposed to be a Librarian. 

Jake practically collapsed at the top of the stairs, groaning. Ezekiel set the heavy golden object down, and hurried to his side. But by the time he got there, Jake was already trying to stand up. Ezekiel reached out to him.

“Hey, dude, take it easy. You’ve got broken ribs, and who knows what else.” Ezekiel said, gut twisting in worry. Jake’s eyes slide over to give him a glare of death.

“And who’s fault is that?” Jake demanded angrily, voice heavy with exhaustion and pain. Ezekiel froze, feeling as if he’d just been punched in the ribs. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and curled his fingers back into his palms, pulling back away. As if the tide had receded just before meeting the shore. 

Ezekiel crossed his arms, trying to keep his stance casual even though his throat was as tight as a noose. Jake stood, leaning against the wall, and holding his side. The southern man let his eyes slide closed for a moment, taking a second to rest and gather himself. Ezekiel’s eyes were locked on his face, and the garden of pain blooming slowly over his stubbled skin. Suddenly, the door at the back of his mind cracked open. A door he tried so hard to keep shut. 

The lights of the abandoned warehouse felt like they were dimming around him. The world faded into hues of flashing lights and gushing blood. The canvas in his mind painted itself the pattern of every bruise he had watched Stone accumulate, every wound, and every drop of his blood that spilled right in front of Ezekiel. It was almost always Stone first, out of all of them, that the rage people tore apart. Limb from limb. Neck slashed, snapped, beaten and ripped open. Fighting the whole way down. Always fighting. Always putting himself in the front, always putting himself in the line of fire. Always trying to get back up as the mindless savages dragged him down, and most of the time, Ezekiel could only watch.

Other times, it was different. Other times, Ezekiel took Eve’s gun, and he didn’t shoot Jake in the leg. And he didn’t do it to prove a point, either. Or maybe he did. Sometimes he did it behind their backs, in the back of the head, so it would be painless. Sometimes he did it while they were staring him in the eyes, shaking their heads in disbelief. Fear. Confusion. Sometimes he was crying. Sometimes he was laughing. Sometimes he couldn’t feel anything at all. Or maybe he felt it all too much. He remembered telling a crying Cassandra that it just didn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it never matters, there are no consequences. Sometimes he broke down screaming, laughing, choking on his words, as they backed away from him in something akin to a dawning terror. 

He remembered hoarsely sobbing to them that he was just putting them out of their misery. That maybe this last time, they wouldn’t come back. He remembered when the gun wouldn’t be pointed at them, but at himself. The way they begged. They always begged with a lot more desperation to keep him from killing himself, then they did to keep him from killing them. What irony.

Did it really count? As murder? If he had known it wouldn’t count? But he hadn’t known. In such an unknowable situation, so many times...he’d been hoping there was some sort of limit. That if he cycled through enough loops, it would end. He had just wanted it to end.

He remembered begging Jake, three loops in a row, Jake with the bruised skin and a bruised soul, to kill him. Maybe one of them **killing him** would end it. He had known Cassandra couldn’t do it, and he had no success the loops before, when he’d asked Eve. 

Every time, Jake had refused, just as Eve did. The first loop, the confrontation ended in Ezekiel killing himself in front of Jake, suddenly, before Jake realized what was happening. The second loop, it ended in Jake holding him while he cried for what felt like hours and hours, before Ezekiel shot himself once again. That time, Jake had struggled against him, trying to stop him. The third loop had ended with Ezekiel being gripped by a blinding, all consuming, unbridled anger. It built and built in him, burning through him and making him forget and remember everything at once. It had been so much, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Something inside him had snapped, and he took it all out on Jake. 

He flew into a fury as if he himself where a rage person. He had attacked Jake, first with his fists, legs and body, flying at him like a madman. Jake hadn’t made a single move to stop him, Jake just hunched over slightly and took it, letting Ezekiel beat on him and kick at him and shove him into the wall. All the while Ezekiel remembered hearing himself screaming, but it sounded more like an animal than a man. 

Jake had just took it. And for some reason, in his frenzy, that had made him even angrier. It made him furious, to the point his vision literally started to darken, tinging red, and he heard his own blood roaring in his ears. He hated it, the reminder he was alive. He hated that Jake was so good, was so noble, was so wonderful. He grabbed Jake and shoved him into the wall again, and this time Jake’s head cracked against the wall loudly. Ezekiel was practically shaking in his fury, and a distant part of his mind wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d started foaming at the mouth.

“Why won’t you stop me?” Ezekiel demanded, slamming another fist into Jake’s gut. Jake doubled over a little, wheezing. He craned to look up at Ezekiel, eye swelling up. 

“You...need this.” He wheezed, lip bleeding. Ezekiel was stopped by that momentarily, frozen as he stared down at the other man. Heart beating fast, beating, beating, **always beating.** For a moment, Jake’s understanding stalled him, and he felt as if he were teetering on an edge. Perhaps he would fall backwards, and crumple once again, sobbing into the other man’s arms. How could it be, that even now, Jake understood him better than he could? How could Jake fathom the massive weight of the loops, of the eternity he had spent caught here? His own mind couldn’t handle it, how could Jake look at him and see it all so easily, and let him take it all out on him? 

And then the weight of that very unfathomable millenia crashed back down upon him, like a riptide. He screamed out in outrage and injustice again, and grabbed Jake, dragging him away from the wall and throwing him down. Jake slammed to the ground, groaning, and then tried to lift himself up slightly. Ezekiel seethed in place for a moment, trembling with the pure tension of anger, before bursting once again into movement. He stalked across the hallway they were in, safe from the rage people until they crossed a nearby corner. In this loop, Jake had taken the crowbar with him, but had set it aside during their argument. He’d tossed it aside so he could grab Ezekiel’s shoulders and insist that he was never going to be able to kill him, time loop or no. 

Ezekiel stooped to pick it up, whirling around in the same movement, and brought it down with all his strength on the side of Jake’s leg. He collapsed back down, cursing in pain and staring up at Ezekiel in shock and pain. 

Ezekiel’s vision was blurred, and the rational part left of his mind wondered if he was so angry he was going to pass out. But it was soon clear, from the wetness on his face, that it was only an avalanche of hot tears. Ezekiel breathed like he couldn’t, baring his teeth down at Jake as he fought against his body’s own tension, twitching and clenching, reaching up to run his free hand through his hair. He halted his hand and tightened his grip, and then he ripped at his hair as he let out another scream, body doubling and slamming a foot down in a convulsion. Then, in the returning sling of that bow, he brought down the crowbar again, over and over. Jake made no move to get away, he just curled up and brought his arms around his head, grunting and jerking as the heavy piece of metal crashed into him over and over, with all the weight of a thousand lifetimes. Ezekiel couldn’t hear any of his cries over his own. He could barely see anymore, all he could do was feel. Feel so many things, so many things, feel the way his body burned, the way every time he brought the crowbar down felt like another death and life. 

After what felt like another eternity, Ezekiel’s body grew heavier, and his heat melted into his bones, in a dull aching simmer. His arms, a hundred pounds each, fell to his sides. He swayed, and the crowbar clattered to the ground. It took a moment for the ringing to fade in his ears, and for his vision to correct itself. Once it did, he stared down at what he’d done.

Jake was limp on the floor, his only movement a convulsing cough that splattered blood onto the concrete in front of him. He looked...like mincemeat. His nearest arm looked broken. A long bashed welt across the side of his head was probably the explanation for the dazed, glazed over look in his eyes. Welts, bruises, and split open gashes oozing blood covered every visible inch of skin, and the side of his ribcage was soaked in blood. The end of the crowbar was the same. Ezekiel stared down at him numbly, feeling now like he was falling backwards, being dragged underwater by the undertow. He fell to his knees, heart no longer feeling as if it was beating. Silence reigned, broken only by Jake’s wet, weak, pained coughs. All of which produced copious amounts of blood. He was going to bleed out. He was going to die anyway, eventually, in this loop. And then it would reset. 

That truth seemed far away, at the moment, as he stared at what he had done. The reality of now, of the moment, it broke something so deep down in him it was frankly shocking just to feel so deeply. He let out a horrified sob, face screwing up, inching closer with outstretched hands. His hands hesitated in the air as he drew close to Jake, not sure where to go, what to do. What was happening at all. Then again, it was all so clear. So horribly, horribly clear. Then the tension all fell in upon itself, like a building collapsing inside of itself. He fell forward, gripping onto Jake despite how he knew it would hurt him, bowing his head and sobbing into the bloody mess that he loved so much more than words. Not that he’d ever used any words to tell Jake just how much he meant. He’d had to remember to do that, next time. If there was a next time.

A sound brought Ezekiel out of his drowning, a choking, feeble sound. He turned his head towards Jake’s head. He was trying to lift his head, trying to look at Ezekiel to address him. But it seemed he could barely move his neck. Ezekiel moved in that direct, and reached to pushed Jake from his side onto his back, cradling his head in his hands as he did. Blood covered his face, and leaked still out of the side of his hand. Jake’s glazed over eyes struggled, despite his obvious agony, to focus on Ezekiel. His adam’s apple bobbed as Jake swallowed, triyng to clear the blood out of his mouth. His un-broken arm feebly reached to grip in Ezekiel’s shirt, and Ezekiel stared down at him, riveted. 

“It’s...okay.” Jake managed to croak out. It took so much effort to say anything, and he...was reassuring Ezekiel? 

“You’re dying.” Ezekiel whispered, staring down at him still, now with a bit of tragic awe.

“I...already...was, right?” Jake said, swallowing in between a few words, and then devolving into a bloody coughing fit after he had finished. Ezekiel felt his face contort itself. He looked down over Jake, and over at the crowbar on the floor.

“Not slowly, not like this...not…” Ezekiel began to shake his head back and forth, tears resuming their cascade. Then he turned his head back to Jake, and sat up a little bit. He bit the inside of his lip, and moved his hands from cradling Jake’s head, to slowly wrapping themselves around his neck. For a moment, he considered shutting his eyes. But he didn’t. He didn’t deserve to be shielded from this. He increased the pressure, bearing down with his weight, to get the job done as quickly as possible.

Naturally, Jake’s human reflexes responded, eyes going wide and body convulsing. For the first time, he tried to fight Ezekiel. But it was the weak actions of a broken body and a drifting mind, and soon he stopped moving altogether. Ezekiel drew his hands away, and slowly stood up. His eyes drifted from Jake’s body, to the gun, having been abandoned on the floor of the hallway during the altercation.t

But then he decided otherwise. He’d given Jake as quick a death as he could, at the end, hoping to shorten his pain. But Ezekiel didn’t deserve something quick, after what he’d done.

And so, he walked numbly to the end of the corridor, and stepped over the trigger point. The rage people poured out of the doorways, a flood of red eyes. 

He made no move to fight them, and let the world go white for the millionth time. 

\-----------------------

“Jones?” Jake demanded. Ezekiel snapped out of the memory far quicker than he’d fallen into it, and took a moment to stare at Jake in horror. Jake squinted at him in confusion, trying to push himself up off the wall again, but failing. He crashed back into the wall in a falter of weakness, a cry escaping through gritted teeth. 

A cry of pain Ezekiel was all too familiar with. As Jake hit the wall again, slouching, Ezekiel himself flinched slightly in the other direction. Jake took a few slow breaths, before looking back up at Ezekiel.

“We’ve got to go. Snap out of it and lead the way, i’m too dizzy…” Jake breathed, wincing as he forced himself to stand up straight again. Ezekiel blinked, and forced himself to turn and pick up the heavy golden object. He bit his cheek against a grunt at the exertion, and began to lead the way through the dim hallways. Jake followed, struggling to stand straight as he did. Ezekiel was uncharacteristically silent through the rest of the way back, and even when they got back to the Annex. He set the heavy artifact on the table, and then he walked silently out of the Annex, not bothering to stay behind and watch Jenkins heal Jake. Jake was left alone to explain what had happened. The bitterness was gone from his tone as he explained what he’d done for Ezekiel, replaced by meager exhaustion. The others were disturbed, and worried. But they were not surprised. 

Jake didn’t mention Ezekiel’s weird behavior in his general report on the mission. He had only said he’d protected Ezekiel from getting a beating. He’d neglected to elaborate that it was a beating Ezekiel had quite literally begged for. 

The other’s eventually left him alone to rest. Jenkins and Flynn went to file the artifact away, Cassandra went to find Ezekiel. Jake had a feeling she would have little success. Jake slouched in one of the chairs around the round table, propping his chin on his hand. Only Eve remained, then. After a prolonged silence, she came to sit next to him, folding her hands on the table. She didn’t even have to say anything. He knew that she knew, there was something more.

“You’ve noticed it to, then?” Jake sighed. 

“Ezekiel’s weird behavior? Of course. Lately, sometimes he just…” Eve’s voice wandered away from her, searching for a way to form itself into words. 

“He drifts away. It’s like he’s not even there. Like we’re just talking to an empty shell.” Jake filled in her blank, voice heavy.

“The other’s have noticed too. Flynn’s been asking me about it. He doesn’t know Ezekiel like we do it, and even he notices it. Jenkins told me…” Eve hesitated. Jake raised an eyebrow, in a serious manner.

“What?” He prompted. Eve turned to look down at her hands.

“Ezekiel always stays late. You know that.” She started. 

“Yeah, to do stuff on those damned computers of his. Game and hacking and shit. He’s got better tech here than he does at his apartment.” Jake carried on, reciting the reasons he understood for Ezekiel’s tendency to remain in their headquarters into the late hours. Eve nodded.

“Well, Jenkins full-on lives here, so, he’s here the most. And sometimes, Jenkins goes down to see Ezekiel. When everyone’s gone. Most of the time, Ezekiel tries to rope him into going clubbing, or to the movies, or to laser tag.” Eve continued. Jake huffed.

“I’d pay to see that.” He interrupted. Eve cracked a smile, but it didn’t last long under the weight of her unspoken words.

“But, uh, sometimes...Jenkins says, he goes down there, and Ezekiel isn’t doing anything.” She said. Jake frowned.

“He can be lazy, yeah? So?” He asked. Eve finally looked back up at him.

“No, not like that. I mean, he’s not doing _anything_. He’s just sitting there. He doesn’t move. And he’ll just stare at his screens. But they’ll all be off, every time. He just sits there and stares at blank screens. Jenkins says, most of the time, he snaps out of it if Jenkins calls his name. But sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he doesn’t respond or react at all, for minutes. And one time, Jenkins was worried he was under some sort of spell, because Jenkins spent over an hour trying to get him to wake up. That’s why he told me, he’s worried. But…” Eve’s words died again. Jake felt the weight she was sharing settle over his skin.

“You don’t think it’s some sort of spell.” Jake said, and she nodded. Jake sighed, and rubbed his eyes. 

“That happened today, he drifted, for a few minutes. He just stared at me. And then looked just- he just looked so terrified when he snapped out of it. Like he’d seen a ghost. That wasn’t the weirdest thing, though…” Jake sighed, and Eve frowned deeper.

“He asked for the beating I took for him. He was literally begging those goons to beat him to a pulp, he wouldn’t stop egging them on, antagonizing them. He wanted it. I don’t know why, I tried to stop him…” Jake shook his head. Eve reached to put a hand on the art historian’s shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out. What you did today was nothing short of heroic.” Eve said. Jake pursed his lips.

“In our line of work, taking a beating seem’s pretty low on the list of heroic daily asks.” He commented. Eve cocked her head slightly, her eyes glimmering that deep, emotional gleam that told you everything you needed to know.

“Saving your friends from other people is one thing, yeah. But saving them from themselves? That’s a whole other ballgame. One I, as the Guardian, am also well-versed in. Good job today, Stone. Get some rest. We’ll talk more about Ezekiel later.” She said, and stood to walk away. Her words lingered, and he sat silently in the Annex, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the lights.

\----------------

Things went normally for a while after that. As normal as normal could be, for them. Sometimes, Ezekiel would drift away, even if they were in the middle of a conversation. But he was usually rather quick to snap back. Jake found himself exchanging looks with the others often, even with a concerned looking Flynn upon occasion. 

Ezekiel wasn’t the most tactile person. And Ezekiel had never been overly protective of his personal space. But for a while, it seemed like Ezekiel made more of an effort to put distance between them. Between everyone, yes, but particularly between him and Ezekiel. Jake was only really noticing past their mission gone awry, but he couldn’t remember if Ezekiel had been doing it before then. Nobody could.

Soon enough, there came a day that Eve, Flynn and Cassandra had all gone home. Jake decided to stay, under the guise of cataloging the paint pigments used in magical paintings the most often. 

Jenkins was off doing who knew what, and it was getting particularly late. Jake was up in the East Wing, taking notes on the paintings there. He looked down at his watch, and hesitated. Eve and him had been talking, about what to do about Ezekiel. Eve suggested waiting, and all of them talking to him as a team. Which translated to, as a family. 

 

But Jake couldn’t resist the pull of the late hours of the night, the pull of what he needed to know. He set down his notes, and made his way through the Library, down to their headquarters he and the others had made for themselves. 

He approached the door slowly, as it was ajar. He made sure to be quiet, as he moved to peer into the room. His eyes were immediately drawn to Ezekiel’s side of the room. And there he was, sitting in his chair. Jake’s heart plummeted to his stomach.

The screens were all off. There was no music playing. Nothing on the desks in front of him. Jake crept forward, swallowing thickly, to stand next to the younger Librarian. Just like Eve had described, he was staring forward with blank eyes. Unmoving. Expressionless. Jake hesitated, before reaching to shake Ezekiel’s shoulder.

“Dude? Jones?” He called. No response. Not even the slightest twitch. 

Behind Jake, the clock on the wall ticked, and ticked, seconds echoing into the void of reality.

Jake waved his hand in front of the younger man’s face. Nothing. He became more distressed. He took a step back, but then he took the same step forward. He mustered up courage - not knowing why he was so afraid - and shook Ezekiel a little harder.

“ _Ezekiel!_ ” He practically shouted in the thief’s ear. That got the job done. Ezekiel jumped, flying away from Jake’s touch and voice, clattering out of his chair and landing on his ass on the floor.

“Shit! I’m sorry, I just wanted you to wake up…” Jake apologized, as Ezekiel blinked up at him in a daze. Jake moved forward, reaching to pull Ezekiel up. Ezekiel scrambled away from him.

“Stay away from me!” He cried out, almost angrily. Jake froze. He could only watch as Ezekiel stood on his own, pressed against the far wall. Distance conquered the space between them.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jake apologized again.

“You didn’t.” Ezekiel snapped. Jake swallowed again, and took a step forward, trying to close the chasm fracturing between them.

“Ezekiel, cut the crap. You’ve been acting weirder and weirder. What’s going on?” Jake demanded. Ezekiel rolled his eyes.

“Nothing. Stop reading into things.” The thief replied, crossing his arms. Jake narrowed his eyes.

“Stop deflecting! Jesus Christ, stop it! I’m so sick of this! Stop pretending like nothing gets to you, like you don’t care about anything! Frankly, it’s insulting our intelligence to think you’re getting anywhere with that bullshit.” Jake exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. 

“I’m not deflecting anything! I’m not the one in this room that’s always pretending. I’m an open book!” Ezekiel retorted. Jake huffed, shoulders rolling back. 

 

“Open or not, if you were a book, all your pages would be blank and you fucking know it.” Jake huffed. Then he took a deep breath, steadying himself against the tides. 

“Look, dude. You’re not fooling anybody. Something’s wrong, and we want to know. We want to help. We care about you, we’re your friends. Especially lately, it’s like…” Jake gestured desperately, before his hand eventually dropped in resignation. “It’s like we don’t even know you.”

Ezekiel visibly swallowed, but adopted a well maintained expression. “You never did.” He replied, uncharacteristically cold.

Jake furrowed his brow. “What? Of course we know you!”

 

Ezekiel’s anger pushed a little against the cold exterior, clawing at it. “No, you don’t! Do you know where I grew up? Do I have any siblings? What’s my mother’s name? What did my father do for work? Where did I go to school? For that matter, do you even know where i’m from, besides Australia? What’s my favorite color? When was my first kiss, do I like girls or boys or both? What do I do besides steal and party when i’m not here?” Ezekiel demanded, putting his hands on his hips. Jake just shook his head as Ezekiel started asking questions.

“You know I don’t know any of that, because you don’t let us know!” Jake exclaimed. Ezekiel looked triumphant.

“Exactly! So, my point stands. You don’t know me, so get off your high horse and get off my back.” He announced. Jake stared him down, all business.

“And my point stands - _cut the crap_. We don’t need to know the details of your biography to know who _you are_.” Jake said, raising his hand and pointing his index at Ezekiel’s chest. He took another step forward. Ezekiel faltered slightly, and Jake hesitated.

Jake though for a moment, about how Ezekiel acted. How little they knew about his past. Often, Jake suspected his past hadn’t been a good one, and perhaps one fraught with abuse. Maybe that had something to do with this?

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Jake decided to venture. Ezekiel furrowed his brow at him, and then his head turned away, and he started to laugh. He laughed, and he laughed, and Jake could only stare in increasing alarm and confusion. Ezekiel practically doubled over, his laughter becoming hysteric. It was far more terrifying than his previous silence. 

Eventually his laughter ceased into disturbing chuckling. A wide smile was split across the thief's face, a smile of raw amusement. A smile that knew something Jake didn’t.

Words where born as the laughter died. “Trust me,” Ezekiel said, raising his head a little bit to look Jake in the eyes. “That’s the last thing i’ll ever worry about.” _Quite the opposite, in fact._

**Author's Note:**

> i'm truly sorry but i'm truly not


End file.
